And Juliet
by Clair Lawson
Summary: He thought his life was perfect. And then he met her and he found out how much he still had to learn.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies**

**Author's note: This just kind of came to me. I needed a break from writing some other stuff and I really, really just wanted to write this. So I did. I hope y'all like it. Read away! :)**

**Chapter One**

**The Beginning**

Growing up, my family believed in only two things, gambling and winning. And we excelled at both. We were wealthy, too wealthy for religion, Uncle said. Too wealthy to worry about those beneath us, the poor and the ordinary. Too wealthy to care about anything except getting more of everything. That was my world. I used to hide in the hall and watch Uncle play poker through the hole that we had made together. A thick film of smoke hung over the table and there was a tinkling of china as the men drank their brightly colored wine. It was intoxicating. An unobtainable place. A mysterious and magical world. I begged to join them. But Uncle just smiled down on me. I was too young to play when he had company. But on Tuesday nights, when the house was empty and all the servants gone home, he taught me how to play the game. I loved it. It was a game that could move at any speed it wanted. It was nerve-wracking but at the same time I felt like I was in control.

Then, when I turned thirteen, Uncle took me to my first horse race. It was an extension of the world that I loved. We went every Sunday. It became our routine. Just like everything else we did. My world was comfortable and wonderful. I thought it was perfect. I didn't have to worry about anything. Everything was taken care of for me. I knew who I was, what that meant and where I was going. I even knew who I was going to marry. It wasn't arranged but Uncle had made my choice clear. And I always did as he said. I was the perfect child. And I loved it. But when I turned sixteen, everything changed.

…

Uncle whistled as he came down the stairs. A bright melody that he whistled almost every day. I asked him was it was called once. He just said that he couldn't remember. He sprang into the kitchen and I stood up from my seat quickly.

"Good morning, Uncle." I said crisply. Uncle smiled and continued to his chair at the end of the table.

"Good morning, Anton." He replied. I waited for him to sit down before I did. He took his napkin and spread it out on his lap. I did the same. "I wonder what delicious meal Maggie has made for us this morning." Uncle said loudly as the kitchen door opened. He loved to tease our Scottish cook, Maggie. She was sixty years old and was more like family to us than anything. I loved the way she hovered over us, making sure that we ate every bite of food on our plates. The way her mouth curved into a smile when Uncle spoke to her and the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke.

But the woman who came out of the kitchen today was Martha, one of Maggie's helpers. Uncle stood up quickly.

"What's happened?" He asked harshly. "Where's Maggie?"

"Nobody knows." Martha said. "She wasn't here when we arrived. I-" Uncle sat down again.

"She's a capable woman." He said quickly. "I'm sure she's just running late." Martha nodded and promptly placed our food in front of us.

"Would you like me to get your mail, sir?" She asked. Uncle nodded absently. I could feel that something wasn't right. Maggie had never missed a day of work. She never got sick, something she boasted about frequently. I ate my food slowly and carefully. Maggie was a grandmother to me and a mother to Uncle. She was all the family we had after the accident. She had practically raised both of us. I didn't know what we would do without her. We couldn't live without her.

Martha came back into the room with a stack of letters. Uncle thanked her for them and she left again. I watched him open each letter and read through it quickly, just like he did every morning. He usually stopped in between letters to make a witty comment about them. But today he just read and read. I kept eating. There were so many questions I wanted to ask. But I knew not to upset Uncle when he was in a mood. Suddenly, he burst from his chair and stalked out of the room. I could see a piece of paper clenched in his hand.

"I'm going out!" I heard him shout and a few seconds later the front door slammed. I put down my fork. Something was definitely wrong. It was bigger than Maggie. This was about the letter. I could feel it. I stood up and I did the first impulsive thing I had ever done in my life. I decided to follow Uncle. I ran out of the dining room and grabbed my hat and coat from the coat rack. I opened the door slowly and slipped out as quietly as I could. Thank goodness for Benjamin, the gardener. He had caught Uncle before he could make it out of the front gate. I ducked down behind our porch chair and slipped my coat on over my shoulders. I watched them speak for a few minutes.

Then, Uncle was off again. He was one of those men who never moved without a purpose. Everything he did was accompanied by exaggerated actions. He didn't just walk, he strode everywhere he went. He stood up quickly and sat down heavily. He never just moved. He moved with pride. People on the street stopped to watch him go by. His very presence was commanding and he knew it.

I waited for him to get halfway down the street before I stood up. I waved to Benjamin as I left and I walked slowly after Uncle.

I had grown up in New York City, but I had never really been out on the streets. Uncle was always working inside and he had hired a tutor for me, so I never really had the chance to walk around and explore. Sometimes I went for a walk around the neighborhood, but Uncle was walking down streets that I never knew existed. They were loud and crowded and I almost lost sight of Uncle a few times. I had been walking for about twenty minutes when someone ran into me. I'll never know where he came from. He just appeared in front of me. We were in the middle of a square. It was less crowded than the streets. I fell over. He gave me his hand and helped me up quickly.

"What are you doing?" I asked sharply. He looked behind him and grinned broadly.

"Runnin!" He exclaimed. And he dashed away. I looked behind me and saw two angry dark-haired boys running toward me. They rushed into me and I fell over again. The two boys kept moving, pushing away anything in their way. I started to get up again when a hand reached toward me.

"Here, let me help you." A voice said. I looked up to see an honest face on crutches. I took his hand and he helped me up.

"Thanks." I said. Then I turned away from him to see where Uncle had gone, but I had lost him. A wave of panic hit my gut. I didn't know how to get home. I spun around in a circle a few times to make sure that I had just missed him the first time I looked but Uncle was really gone. I took in a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. The boy on crutches stuck out his hand again.

"I'm Crutchy." He said. "Welcome to Newsies square!"


End file.
